Through The Veil
by DestielBelieber31
Summary: When a boy commits suicide, it catches the attention of hunters Dean and Sam Winchester. They go to investigate when the boy realizes only Dean can see him. The boy grows attached to Dean and vice versa. Who is this boy and what happens in their relationship?
1. Prologue

As I looked down upon the ground, I felt the sorrow around my heart grow with every breath. Nothing could ever ease this pain that has grown for as long as I can remember. No one really cared. My mom was a drug addict. My father was dead. I didn't have friends. The guy I liked was oblivious to what I felt and ignored me like a piece of paper on the street.

Can someone like me ever be happy? I didn't think so. My clothes whipped around in the wind from being so high up. The crumpled, tear-stained note in my hand poked the skin in painful places. I look down at all the cars that were driving along on their way to work and school. It was graduation day at school. Everyone would be there except for me. The nerd. The loner. The boy that sat alone at lunch because there was no one to talk to.

My hair was blowing in the wind, brushing against my forehead. I look up at the sky. The sky was a bright pink and orange. The clouds were wispy and thin. I could hear someone yelling for help as they saw me standing there on the building's roof. My toes were hanging off the edge.

"Don't jump!" someone yells.

"What are you thinking? Get down from there!" another person yells.

I take a deep breath and look in front of me at the horizon. I could almost find peace standing on the edge. I close my eyes and lean forward.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

When Dean and Sam catch whiff of some recent activity in England, Arkansas, they decide they have to check it out. The Impala's tires crunched on the gravel back roads that lead to England. Sam was looking through the papers as Dean drove.

"So what do we got?" Dean asks, licking his chapped lips. "There has been a ton of suicides in this town. It is starting to look like that one time we dealt with the goddess of truth," Sam replies, his brows furrowing as he read the paper.

"Didn't we gank her?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, but there are other gods that someone could have summoned," Sam replies, folding the newspaper in his lap.

Dean groans and steps on the gas. He hits the radio button, allowing the music to blast throughout the car. They arrive at the town, pulling into a cheap motel. All they wanted right now was sleep. They both crash on separate beds, instantly falling asleep.

All I could see was a white light. All that came to mind was, _Please don't take me away. I can't just leave. _My eyes adjust to see it was just the morning sun coming in from the window. I sit up of the ground of wherever I was and look at my surroundings. I was in my old house where I used to live. I could hear my mother opening another bottle of pills in her room. I stand up and reach out to pick up my favorite book when my fingers pass right through it.

"I almost forgot," I say to myself. "I'm dead."

I walk out of the room and down the stairs. There was trash everywhere. This is what I had to live in for eighteen years of my pathetic and miserable life. I walk through the front door and down the street. My hands looked pasty white in the sun. I start down the street with no idea where I was going. I decided I would look at how my old classmates were handling the news of my death.

Dean walks down the street with Sam right beside him. Dean looked at all the people walking down the street when he sees a boy that was out of the ordinary. He was ghostly pale and had dark bags under his eyes.

"Sam, you see that kid over there?" Dean asks, pointing to his.

"What kid?" Sam looks around. "I don't see any kid."

"The super pale one. Over there on the other side of the street," Dean says, pointing again.

"There's no kid, Dean," Sam replies cautiously.

Dean looks both ways quickly before jogging across the street. He followed quickly behind him with determination on finding out what the hell was wrong with him. Sam shouted at Dean, but with no avail of stopping his brother. Sam ran after Dean, calling out his name. This caught the attention of the kid. He turns around to see Dean coming straight at him.

The kid runs into the nearest alley, cornering himself with the only exit being through Dean. Dean came straight to the kid and pushed him against the wall.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Are you causing all these deaths?" Dean growls, pushing the kid harder against the wall.

"You can see me?" the kid asks, seeming genuinely surprised.

"Of course I can see you. What kind of question is that?" Dean replies, his eyebrows coming together in frustration.

"Dean, who are you talking to?"

Dean looks behind his shoulder to see Sam running up, out of breath. The question confused Dean. Why was Sam acting like he couldn't see this guy he was pushing against the wall?

"What do you mean, 'who am I talking too'?" Dean asks.

"How can you see me?" the kid asks.

"Everyone can see you," Dean answers. "Can't they?"

"No," the kid says, shaking his head. "I'm dead."

I was gasping for air even though I didn't need it. The guy's arm was cutting off my air supply.

"I am not causing anything," I answer.

"How did you die?" he asks.

I keep my mouth shut. It is not something I like to talk about. Whoever said "Death was peaceful and easy" can suck it. Death sucked ass. There was still pain. There was still loneliness. Watching everyone else be happy when you are sad and dead is excruciating. I just want to go back to when I could actually hold someone and be able to be held.

"How did you die?" the guy snaps aggressively, hitting me against the wall.

"I killed myself! Alright?" I yell. "I jumped off the top of a building."

The guy lets me go and I fall to my knees. I don't know why the heck he could pick me up or hurt me but this is not a good thing.

"What's your name?" he asks.

"Castiel," I breathe. "My name is Castiel."

"_Castiel_?" he asks, a brow raised.

"Yes. Did I stutter?" I ask, looking up at him with anger.

"Don't get all pissy with me, kid. I will gank your ass if you try something stupid," he warns. "My name is Dean and this is my brother, Sam."

"I take it he doesn't see me either?" I ask, standing up.

"No, I guess not," Dean answers. "Even though he is the one with all that mind-reading crap."

"I don't read minds," Sam objects.

"Anyway," Dean continues, "why can I see you?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know? I am a ghost," I say. "I don't exactly have the internet at my fingertips, now do I?"

"Can you move stuff yet?" he asks.

"No," I answer, shaking my head.

He nods and turns to Sam.

"We do have a case on our hands."


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

I sat on the bed of the room as Dean paced angrily. He couldn't figure out why he could see me and no one else could. Sam was typing away at his computer, looking up lore for a way to explain this. I stand up and Dean stops pacing.

"No," he commands. "You stay there."

"I was just going to look at how the research was doing," I reply, rolling my eyes.

"You will know when I know. Until that time comes, you keep your ass on the bed," Dean says, pointing to it.

The familiar yet painful feeling of being lesser than someone rolled over me like a tidal wave. I could feel the anger rising in my chest.

"Don't speak to me like that! Don't talk to me like I am some child!" I scream at him.

Sam jumps and turns around from the computer. His eyes were wide as he truly saw me. Then I feel the anger lower and he looks all over.

"What the hell?" Sam asks.

"I don't know," Dean answers.

I glower at Dean as he walks over to the computer and watches over Sam's shoulder.

"It says here that if a person can see a ghost that no one else can see but is not psychic, that person was not meant to die, but to meet the person that can see them later in life and would've become very connected," Sam says, looking up at Dean.

"What the hell does that mean?" Dean asks, looking at the screen with confusion.

"It means that you and this guy were obviously meant to…" Sam trails off.

"Meant to be what?" Dean asks urgently.

Sam looks back up at Dean. "You were meant to mean a lot to each other."

Dean straightens his back and his brows furrow. He turns to me and I stop swinging my feet. I look around as if he wasn't actually looking at me.

"What?" I ask, looking around again.

"Sam, are you telling me what I think you're telling me?" Dean asks, his jaw clenching.

"Dean, it doesn't mean it like that," Sam replies. "I think…"

"Are you telling me I'm gonna…" Dean starts.

"No, not exactly," Sam says, typing quacking as he searches for another explanation.

I wasn't entirely focused on what they were saying. I was too distracted by Dean's face. I would love to be able to just sketch him right now. The splatter of freckles across his nose and cheek bones. His green eyes as they sparkle in the hotel lamp light. I was too busy laying out how I would draw him to notice anything else.

"Castiel!"

I jump back to reality and blink. Dean's expression changed from disbelief to annoyance.

"What?" I ask, paying complete attention now.

"Are you gay?" Sam asks, looking in the general spot Dean pointed in.

I bite the inside of my cheek. The memories of being pushed into lockers with the slang being spat at me. Being pushed down stairs and getting hit in the face "by accident". It was still painfully fresh in my mind. I flinch, shoving the memories into the back corner of my mind.

"Answer the question!" Dean snaps.

"Dean, calm down. You shouldn't make him lash out again," Sam says, a warning note to his voice. "We know what happens to ghosts that lash out."

Dean sighs and turns back to me. He looks like he was having trouble remaining calm.

"Answer the question," Dean says slower. "Please."

I look up at him then bite my tongue.

"No."

What they didn't know couldn't hurt them, right? They never needed to know if I was into guys or not. I pick at the hem of the shirt I was wearing. Truth is, I found Dean almost angelic in beauty. Sam was also very handsome, but he didn't have that kind of hardness to his face like Dean. Dean could be like Michael, the strong and powerful archangel.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because that eliminates a reason why I can see you," Dean answers.

"And the other reason would be?" I question.

"That we are just friends," Dean replies. "Which is what we are all hoping for."

_***Third Person, mainly towards Dean***_

But this was a lie that rolled off Dean's tongue smoothly. He could never face the reality of what he was feeling. That night-black hair that was tousled like he just woke up. Those blue eyes that Dean swore took all the blue from the sky and were stuck in those little orbs in Castiel's face. Dean really hoped what was going through his head about this… _ghost _was just a lapse of judgment. He was dead and Dean was alive. Doesn't matter what happens. It would never work out.

Castiel sat on the bed in their hotel room and laid back. A strip of skin appeared on his hip that caught Dean's eye. It showed part of the v-line that led down to something that was not supposed to appeal Dean. Images flash through Dean's mind of his fingers running over the line and kissing it gently. Dean could almost _feel _Castiel's fingers in his hair.

"Dean, are you listening to me?" Sam asks, snapping Dean's mind away from the images that frightened him and desired him.

"Sorry, what?" Dean asks.

"I said that if you and this Castiel guy are meant to be, like, best friends then all you have to do is make him realize that it is okay for him to move on," he says.

"And how long is this said to take?" Dean asks, glancing over at Castiel's body on his bed.

"It depends," Sam answers.

"Shit," Dean mumbles. He walks over and taps Castiel's leg with his boot. "Hey, get off my bed."

Castiel's eye cracks open and sees Dean standing there. A small smirk appears on his lips and he closes his eye.

"Nah, it's comfy," Castiel replies.

Dean clenched his teeth and squeezed his hands into painful fists.

"Get off," Dean snarls.

"Make me," was all Castiel said.

Dean used all his strength to push the body off his bed. Castiel yelps and hits the floor inaudibly.

"Dammit!" Castiel swears.

Dean lies down in bed and Castiel stands.

"I'm gonna go," he says, turning towards the door. "If you need me, you can find me."

Dean looks up just as Castiel vanishes.

"He left," Dean says, dropping his head back down on the limp pillow.

Dean heard the laptop close and Sam walk over to his own bed. Sam sits down, causing the springs in the mattress to scream in protest.

"Dean, be honest with me," he says.

He looks at his younger brother. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you really think the reason you can see him is that you are meant to be the poster boys for best friends?" Sam asks, looking into Dean's eyes.

"Yeah, I do," Dean lies.

"You're lying."

Dean looks back at his brother and sits up. He props himself up on his forearms and turns to Sam.

"Like hell I'm lying," Dean replies.

"Dean, come on. I knew that it meant more than friends and I know you know it too," he says, sighing. "You don't have to lie to me."

"I'm not lying," Dean responds with a scolding look. "I am strictly into chicks, dude. You know that all too well."

"When was the last time you actually hooked up with a girl, Dean? When a girl flirts with you, you brush it off," Sam says, shaking his head. "I could see the way you looked at him. At least if he was even there. Something was going on in your head."

"It's called trying to figure out something to do with this kid," Dean answers. "He is annoying as hell and does not follow directions."

Sam just sighs and drops the subject. He climbs into his bed and falls asleep. Dean clicks out the light and closes his eyes. He falls asleep soon after.

In the dream, Dean was in a strip club with a skinny, big-breasted girl dancing just for him. Dean chuckles and leans forward. The dancer climbs down off the stage and on top of Dean. She presses her lips to Dean's, kissing him passionately. When they pull away for air, the dancer wasn't the dancer anymore. It was Castiel. His black hair was as messy as ever and his blue eyes blazed in the light. Castiel brings his mouth back down to Dean's and Dean didn't resist. Castiel's hand went from Dean's face and right down to his pants.

Dean sits straight up in bed, his forehead covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He could remember every detail about the dream down to the type of couch he was sitting on. He looks around to see it was still dark out and the room was cold. It didn't occur to Dean right away. _Air conditioning has really kicked on, _Dean thinks to himself. He closes his eyes and drops his head back onto the cool, damp pillow.

"Oh, Dean," a small voice whispers in his ear.

He turns over to see the dancer lying beside him, bra and all. His eyes got wide and he couldn't speak.

"You enjoyed it, didn't you?" she says, resting her head in her propped hand.

"What?" Dean asks.

"You enjoyed it. When that boy was kissing you," she repeats. "You know you can't hide it. You loved just as much as you would be me kissing you. Just stop denying it."

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and her presence was gone. He rubs his eyes and groans, leaning onto his back. He didn't need this right now. He just needed to get the job done and leave this town once and for all. He did not feel this way and definitely not towards a guy. Dean eventually feels exhausted and falls back into a dreamless sleep.

"_Wanted (wanted!) dead or alive!"_

Dean peels his eyes open, sleep keeping them shut. He looks to see Sam brushing his teeth. He sits up and Sam spits the toothpaste into the sink.

"Ready to find your boyfriend?" Sam asks.

"Fuck off," Dean replies with a groan.

Sam laughs and walks over to his bed to pull on his shoes. Dean rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, stretching his back. He pulls on his shirt from yesterday and fixes the collar.

"It's still up, you know."

Dean jumps to see Castiel sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. Dean grumbles and fixes the collar again. Castiel laughs and Dean sneers at him.

"Don't be pissy with me, kid," Castiel mimics. "I'll still gank your ass."

"You better watch it, asshole."

Sam looks to wear Dean was staring with such hatred and snickers.

"What did he say?" Sam asks.

"He is just trying to be an asshole," Dean answers, tying his shoe.

"Ah, you two are a match made in heaven," Sam jokes.

Dean sends Sam a glare that gives the meaning to, "If looks could kill". Sam laughs and goes back to putting on his shoes with a smile. Castiel laughs again and Dean growls. Castiel bites the air with a growl then laughs again.

"I'm gonna run to the store," Sam says.

"Don't forget the pie," Dean says.

"I won't forget the pie," Sam replies.

"You better not," Dean warns.

"Tell him I want licorice," Castiel says, leaning forward in his chair.

"No," Dean replies, glaring at Castiel.

"What did he say?" Sam asks, opening the door to the room. A breeze went through the room that made Dean shiver from the sudden heat.

"He said to bring him licorice."

Sam nods and walks out of the room, closing the door behind him. Dean takes a swig from the flask he always carried around. The alcohol burned his throat on the way down, but it brought him some ease. He coughed then took another mouthful.

"Jeez," Castiel says. "Don't get drunk."

"Fuck off," Dean says.

"Can't. Dead, remember?" Castiel replies, shrugging his shoulders. "I can't just leave."

"Yeah, you can," Dean says. "You can always move on. Go to heaven."

"What's waiting for me there?" Castiel asks. "My dad was an abusive drunk. My whole family just left me, glad to be rid of me. No one came to my funeral. It's not like I am waiting to meet someone up there or someone is waiting for me."

"But sure is better than down here," Dean comments.

"You got that right," Castiel replies. "But does that mean being alone in an imaginary paradise or being alone down here where no one can see you but everything's real? I'd like to at least watch."

"What's the point, though, Cas? You are going to either suffer here or be at peace up there," Dean adds. "I'd pick heaven over here."

"Yeah, but you got to come back here every time to a brother who loves you and would kill for you," Castiel replies. "I was the freak. I was the kid that no one wanted to sit with because I had glasses and I didn't have any social skills. It didn't matter what is up there because I don't have a paradise because I never experienced one."

"That can't be true," Dean says, lying on the bed again with his back against the headboard.

"But it is. All my childhood consumed of was Child Services and abuse and shouting," Castiel argues. "My entire teenage time was filled with bullying and being alone and watching my mom take pill after pill. I am still a virgin through and through. No one took me to prom. No one kissed me. No one even gave me valentines on Valentine's Day my entire life. I am not exactly the picture of happiness here."

"You can't think of the negative things like that," Dean retorts. "Think of the happy things that have happened to you."

"That's the thing," Castiel says. "There was no happy. Why do you think I killed myself?"

Dean sighs and shakes his head. Castiel was reading one of their old lore books and Dean was trying to take his mind away from last night's dream by looking at a Busty Asian Beauties magazine when Sam walked in with the grocery bags.

Castiel jumped up and looked in the bags.

"Hell yeah! He got me licorice!" Castiel cheers.

"Dammit, Sam," Dean swore. "You got him licorice?"

"I just thought it would be nice." Sam shrugged.

Dean hits his forehead and leans back.

"Tell me you at least got the pie," Dean asks, rubbing his temples.

"Of course I got it," Sam replies, digging through the bags.

All of a sudden, Sam jumps and sighs. He looks straight at Castiel and sighs again.

"Would you mind at least warning me before you just pop up?" Sam asks.

Castiel looks down at himself and back at them.

"Did I?" he asks.

Castiel shrugs and sits back in the chair with his licorice in his hands. He took piece by piece and just chowed down the whole pack quickly. He smiles and throws the wrapper on the table. He pats his stomach and leans his head back.

"Not as good as burgers, I have to say," Castiel says.

"Shut up, Cas," Dean growls.

Sam rolls his eyes and heads into the bathroom. Not long after the shower turns on and Dean knew they had a while before Sam came out. Dean finds a comfortable position and drifts to sleep. Again, there was another dream like the last one.

Dean was in a bedroom. Not the motel bedroom, but a teenage boy's. There were really good artwork pinned on corkboards and books lying everywhere with posters of Marvel and such on the walls. He had no idea where he was. He turned to the bed to see a beautiful teen girl lying on top of it. She was dressed in shorts and a very low cut tank top.

"Come and sit down," she says, patting the spot beside her.

Dean happily does so, dying to get his mind off of that boy. She climbs under him and looks up at him with a big, seductive smile. Her hair was dark as night and her eyes bluer than the sky. She pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it to the side.

"What's your name?" Dean asks.

"Cassie," she murmurs against Dean's lips.

_Cassie? _She pulls Dean down on her by his jeans' waistband. She kisses him roughly and sloppily. As their tongues mingle and twist, her body drew closer and closer. He opens his eyes to see Castiel in her place. Castiel flips him over and runs his hands up Dean's chest.

"You make me happy," he says.

He was about to pop the button of Dean's jeans when Dean jolts awake. He looks all over to see Castiel reading the lore book again. The shower stopped and Dean could tell Sam was coming out soon. He stands up and walks out the door.

"Where are you going?" Sam asks, just catching the door before it shut.

"For a drive," Dean replies, slamming the Impala door shut and quickly pulling out of the parking lot.

Dean drover and drove until he got to an empty dirt road with nothing by field on either side. He pulls the Impala into a shaded spot covered by wood. He needed some release. He undid his belt and pushes his boxers down to expose his erection. He took himself in his hand and pumped it quickly. The pleasure that he had was at an extreme. He needed this time to himself. He moved his hand at a swift pace, throwing his head back from the intensity.

"Oh, God," Dean moans, moving even faster. "Oh, _God._"

His thumb slips and brushes over the slit, causing Dean's hips to buck. He bit his lip, waiting for the right moment. Right then, he releases his juices. It covered the top of his hand. Dean's moan rang against the walls of the Impala and out the windows. He rubbed himself again and finished himself off.

Dean tucks himself back in his pants and grabs napkins from the glove box to wipe his hands. He cleans his hands and sat there for a moment. His heavy breathing was slowing down.

"You know, if you wanted my help, you could just ask."

Dean jumps. "Jesus Christ!"

"Not exactly. That someone else."

Dean turns around to see Castiel lounging in the back seat. He literally crawled back there and pinned Castiel to the seat. He looked at him in such anger. The only look Castiel had was amusement.

"What the hell are you doing to me?" Dean shouts.

"I'm not doing anything. I am just a ghost that only you can see," Castiel replies.

"Why are you giving me those dreams and making me feel this way?" Dean snaps, shaking Castiel.

"First of all, I don't give you dreams. I am only in there when you bring me in there. And, second of all, I can't _make _you feel anything," Castiel answers. "That is all you, mister."

"No, you are doing this to me. You make me feel this way," Dean demands. "How are you doing it?"

"Okay, Dean. Listen to what I am saying," Castiel says, all amusement gone from his features. "I am just the ghost of a guy who committed suicide last year. I am no monster. I'm no succubus. Or whatever. I can't just do that. I am not that advanced yet."

Dean couldn't accept it. He has never felt this way about anyone ever. And never a guy for that matter. He looked into the eyes of the bully victim and he just swam in them.

"But how?" Dean mumbles.

"How the hell am I supposed to know? It's your body, big guy."

"Maybe it is just some psychological thing where if it happens in real life, it will stop."

Castiel's eyebrows furrow together in confusion. What he was thinking, Castiel didn't know. That is, until Dean's lips pressed hard against Castiel's. Castiel's arms will still pinned by Dean so he was stuck not being able to wrap his arms around Dean. Dean, on the other hand, was trying to fight the hunger that pulsed through his veins and the heat that spread through his body. Dean's grip loosened on Castiel's arms and this allows Castiel to take his arms and wrap them around Dean's neck.

The softness of Dean's lips and the scruff of the stumble on his chin drove Castiel crazy. For a dead guy, he has some hell of a working human sensations going on. Dean pulled away, though his body completely disagreed.

"Well, this is quite the predicament," Castiel says, "for you."

"Shut the hell up," Dean snarls, pressing his lips down on Castiel's again.

He pulled Castiel up and let him straddle Dean. Castiel's fingers tugged on Dean's sandy-brown hair with hunger and passion. Their tongues danced with sparks as music. They twisted and fought for dominance of each other's mouths. Castiel could feel Dean through his jeans so Castiel brought a hand down and began to rub the bulge in Dean's jeans.

"I thought you said you were a virgin," Dean moans against Castiel's lips.

"There are some advantages of being dead," Castiel moans right back. "No one can see you."

Dean groans and puts a hand down Castiel's jeans. He grips Castiel's hard and began pumping.

"Ghosts get horny?" Dean asks.

"All the fucking time," Castiel answers, shimmying out of his jeans then discarding them to the floor of the Impala.

"Good thing only I can fuck you then, you little shit," Dean replies, shoving his jeans down.

"Then make well on that," Castiel mumbles on Dean's neck. "Fuck me hard."

"You'll never know what hit you," Dean snarls into Castiel's mouth.

Castiel could feel Dean positioning himself and gripped the back seat as tightly as he could. Then Dean thrusts. Castiel gasps and throws his head back. As Dean pounds Castiel's ass, Castiel's hand was on his dick, pumping and rubbing it to the same rhythm as Dean. He moans and gasps. Dean groans and breathes heavily. After a while, Dean takes himself out and pushes Castiel onto the seat.

"Get on your hands and knees," Dean commands.

Castiel does as he is told, his cheek pressed to the leather seat. Dean goes back in and begins to thrust again. He pounded Castiel so hard; the Impala shook with every thrust.

"Oh, my God!" Castiel screams. "Oh, _my God!_"

Dean slapped Castiel's rear, squeezing and gripping it. Dean moans and thrust faster. Castiel was there. He knew it and Dean knew it. Dean went faster and faster, the slapping of their skin going at the same pace as Castiel's heart. Then he came.

"Fuck," Castiel moans.

Dean falls against Castiel's back. Their breathing was heavy and in sync. Dean kisses Castiel's shoulder and falls back into the seat. He grabs his shirt and begins to put it on when all of a sudden Castiel disappears.

Castiel is pulled back to hotel room and, thankfully, his clothes were right back on his body like always. He looks around and then at the person who summoned him there. He looks the face of one of his tormentors from school.

"What the hell?" Castiel asks.

"Well, well, well," Raphael says. "Looks like someone really is back in town."

"How did you even know I was still here?" Castiel asks, narrowing his eyes at Raphael.

"I was just walking down the street the other day when I saw these two guys run into an alleyway, yelling like they were chasing someone," he explains, walking around the circle in which I am entrapped. "I listened to them talking and I could've sworn the short one said that the thing he was talking to was named Castiel. So I looked up some stuff on the internet on how to summon a ghost and trap it. So far everything had worked out."

I narrow my eyes at him and he just laughs.

"Go to hell," I spit.

He laughs again and then goes completely serious. He unfolds some papers that crinkled from being folded too many times. He starts reading off in Latin and Castiel falls to his knees. He felt as if he was being torn apart.

"What are"-groan-"you doing to"-groan-"me?"

Raphael laughs. "I am sending you straight to where you need to be, _you cock-sucking faggot._"

Castiel was now on all fours, coughing. He gripped his chest. It was like air was going in, but nothing was being accepted into his body. He falls to his side as he coughs up blood. The door to the room flies open. Raphael looks to see Sam and Dean rushing inside.

"What are you doing?" Dean demands.

"Who the hell are you?" Raphael asks, looking at the brothers.

"We're the guys that are gonna kick your ass," Sam says, pulling out his gun.

Raphael starts quickly reciting the incantation again with worry written on his face. If he didn't feel it before, Castiel was definitely feeling it now. The blood he coughed up, splattered over a large area of the circle he was stuck in.

"Cas, you feeling okay?" Dean asks, looking down at Castiel with his gun pointed at Raphael.

"Dean," Castiel coughs.

"Sam, you take care of this dick and I'll help out Cas," he says, getting down on his knees and wiping away the salt. "I got you. I got you."

Dean grabs Castiel under his arm and lifts him up. He helps Castiel stand and they walk out and into the car.


End file.
